The dying flames :Inheritance cycle book 4
by lord ramanujan
Summary: Eragon and the Varden battle the mad tyrant Galbatorix. However they are not the only ones. A new rider emerges northward. New dangers are formed, Galbatorix is not the only one... .
1. Prologue

The storm clouds gathered as forked lightning ripped across the clouds nearly impenetrable hide, drawing rain, from above. Atop a hill the silhouette of an elf was faintly visible through the mist. He was wrapped in a black cloak; a hood obscured his face, from viewers. The elf gripped the hilt of his sword, that hung by his side. It was a blade of immense power and radiated an aura, so fearsome, even the bravest of men would cower at the sight of it. It was a triple edged blade with a symbol etched on it. This symbol was a word from a language known only to a selective few, in Alagaesia. It translated to Aiedail, the morning star. His hand curled around the, black diamond studded pommel of his sword. _"Night scales, where are you?" _thought the elf_. _

A massive figure drew closer to the hill. The outline of a dragon was revealed. The dragon dived towards the hill. It closed its wings and plummeted towards the ground, at neck break speed, at the last moment, the dragon spread its wings and stabilized, landing gracefully next to the elf.

"_Exhilarating, was it not, Dauth?" _said the elf

"_Humph", _the dragon replied

"_And I thought you were the one with a sense of humour and, sarcasm__." _commented Aranor.

The black dragon only released a puff of smoke that met with Aranor's face.

"_Hush, we are being followed," _Warned Aranor.

"_We are Rider and Dragon little one, why must we cringe in fear of another?" _Retorted Dauth.

The rider scanned the scene, with his piercing blue eyes, the lush green vegetation that covered the hill were not to disclose anything. The rider however would not be denied, he opened his mind and extended it outwards and covered the expanse of the hill. He touched 3 minds on the hills. One betrayed great panic, and sudden fear.

"Die! Argetlam," Whispered a voice.

Aranor felt the heat from the fireball. Flames licked at it.

The elf whipped his sword out, and with great speed, he placed it parallel to his back and with its tip pointing to the floor. The blade was pure black and shimmered in the light, reflecting the image of the fireball. The fireball deflected of the sword and flew towards the one who conjured it. The man's eyes widened in terror, as he saw what was to come, his whole life flashed before him.

The rider leapt onto his dragon with astounding, speed. The dragon through its head back and let out a deafening roar that broke the silence of the night, while the other men covered their ears in terror.


	2. Chapter 1: Kings Quandary

Chap 1: The King's quandary

Here is the next chap, thanks for the review( only 1 Grrr!)

Pls review.

Galbatorix paced across the throne room impatiently. He awaited the reports on his latest problem, Aranor had returned from the North. His fears had been confirmed by scouts. He was frustrated at this new threat. Aranor had managed to elude the finest of his men. He was the only rider of the old order that Galbatorix truly dreaded, after Vrael's death. The scar across his face (like the joker, somewhat!) burned. All efforts to heal it had failed; Aranor had cursed him that night, the wound would never completely heal.

"_After all these years when I thought that perhaps he was dead, he returned. No matter I will crush him like I killed his mentor and his father. He will pay. He is a threat to Alagaesia, he must die!"_

Then a servant hesitantly walked in

"My lord there is a m-message for you." He stuttered.

"From whom does this message come?" inquired Galbatorix, his voice was very soft, but the menace in it was evident. The messenger squawked "Broddreg, from the North, sir."

"Bring it in." commanded Galbatorix.

A large mirror was brought in to the throne room.

"Be gone! And don't let anyone in." The man bowed down and left the room.

Broddreg looked at the throne room; it was empty except for the king who sat on a black throne. The pillars were made of solid gold, with jewels carved into them. However that was not what Broddreg looked at as he bowed down, and sat on one knee, he looked at the king wordlessly, his eyes asking for permission to speak. The king was a tall man of around 6.4 feet. He was a muscular man, well built; he was bald, but had a square goatee. He wore black regal robes that seemed as though the fabric they had been woven of was royalty, gold necklaces studded with diamonds and other stones dangled from his neck. His hand gripped a gold hilt with a black jewel on the pommel. On his head was a jewel encrusted crown. The king's eyes were grey hollows of madness. His expression was blank and unreadable; he betrayed nothing and kept a stoic, but regal demeanor. After a silence that seemed eternal the king ordered

"Speak." Broddreg took in a long breath, as though it might be his last.

"My lord, the treacherous black rider has escaped. Karvost attacked too early and alerted him of our presence, he has been killed."

Galbatorix growled, for a second his face betrayed his fear and then was replaced by anger.

"Must I remind you Broddreg that as the leader it is your responsibility to complete the missions I entrust to you? Did you not think about this when you gleefully accepted this post? Now you will feel my wrath. For your sake, just pray that you die on the journey back to Uru'baen!" Galbatorix bellowed.

He then severed the connection with a flick of his hand.

"Bring in Murtagh." He roared. Two slaves rushed in, their faces showing the terror that they held in their hearts.

"Yes my l-lord." said one of the men. He had auburn hair, he was a short man, and very lean. Galbatorix glared at him with poison in his eyes. The man flinched.

"What is your name slave?" He spat.

"It is Borad my lord." He stuttered.

"Borad… have I not made it clear that I do not like to repeat my orders." said Galbatorix softly. Galbatorix walked to the man slowly, with a sudden movement he seized his throat and lifted him above the ground, pushing him against the pillar. He then told the other slave

"Go fetch Murtagh quickly, or I will attend to you after I'm finished with this man over here." Said Galbatorix, he spoke casually as if he were strolling in a park and commenting to a friend.

Then Galbatorix conjured an iron nail wit his left hand and said

"Do you know what I am going to do Borad?" he questioned menacingly.

"I am going to make you swallow this red hot nail; do you know how much pain it will cause? Don't worry it will come out in the end after burning a hole through your stomach. No and you wont die until I want you to Borad rest assured, I'll take care of your family though." Galbatorix laughed insanely. The sound of his laughter echoed through the hallway.

Murtagh heard the slave's cries, mingled with Galbatorix's laughter as they echoed through the corridors.

"_What do you think Thorn? At first this only used to happen when he had one of his fits of madness or when he was enraged, but now it seems to have become a daily routine," _asked Murtagh. _"Perhaps he's troubled by some new problems_." _explained Thorn._

"_I hope that this new problem is that Eragon has put a sword through his gut."_ Joked Murtagh

Thorn snorted. Murtagh reached the door and knocked. It opened slowly and Murtagh stepped in. "Yes, my lord." "Where is Glaedr's eldunari, Murtagh?"

"Where it belongs." retorted Murtagh.

"Murtagh...Murtagh...Murtagh, why is it that your family vexes me the most while your father was my most faithful rider." inquired Galbatorix.

"Perhaps because we knew Morzan was wrong, and want to gain retribution for our father's wrongs." sneered Murtagh. Galbatorix smirked and retorted

"What better way to nullify your father's so called wrongs by killing his mentor. Doing what he always wanted to do himself. Like father like son."

"At least one of us is in the right." Murtagh spoke out. "Quite right, but that one's you, a reluctant one, however you're going to get that other one to the right." sneered Galbatorix.

Murtagh's hand reached out towards Za'roc. Galbatorix then whispered an inaudible phrase.

"_Here comes the pain!" _thought Murtagh.

Aranor sat cross legged on Dauth's saddle; his eyes were closed in deep concentration. He extended his conscience to the birds. They were now close to Gil'ead, so he hoped that perhaps one of them would give him some information on the prisoners held there. He found the minds of two birds flying together as if chatting, one emitted joy while the other to the contrary displayed great grief. He extended a probing finger into the first one's mind and saw an image of the elves in Gil'ead with the flags flying above. The other came as an immense shock, the bodies of his father and his father's dragon. Aranor let out a yell that shattered the calm of the night. It was a yell of pure agony. There was another roar and the voice of an enraged dragon joined him. Tears streamed down his eyes as he thought that he wouldn't be able to talk to his father again, that his father had passed into the void, once again ripped away by Galbatorix. The last time Galbatorix had taken his mentor Vrael away from him.

Flashback……………………………………………………………..

Lightning flashed in the sky and thunder rang through the air. Storm clouds let out torrents of rain. Dauth spread his wings and flew into the night.

"How long before we reach there, old friend." Brom asked impatiently.

"Not long lad. Just buckle up." replied Aranor.

Dauth took a steep dive into the cliffs, as they plummeted towards the earth Aranor raised his hands releasing the straps for his hand.

"We have reached, Brom."

Aranor undid the leg straps and gripped his sword hilt with both hands. Aranor saw Formora and his old nemesis Kialandi on the ground below, they and two other riders along with Galbatorix surrounded his master.

"I'm coming ebrithl!" Aranor yelled.

Just before Dauth hit the rocky surface he pulled up. Aranor leapt of Dauth with amazing flexibility and speed landing between Vrael, Formora and Kialandi, with his sword drawn ready to strike. Brom leapt of sometime later and placed himself between two other dragon riders and Vrael.

"These two are mine" yelled Aranor.

Vrael smiled at the two of them "You have finally arrived, young apprentice. Let's end this once and for all."

"I'll be nice and leave old Galby over there to you." remarked Aranor.

Kialandi snarled and charged at Aranor his brown sword met with Aranor's black one, sparks flew out from between them. Formora took advantage of this situation and slashed at Aranor's legs. Aranor jumped in the air and with a scissor kick he hit Formora in the groin. Formora groaned loudly as he fell to the floor.

"All these years and I thought you'd learn the basics of swordplay." sneered Aranor.

"_Stop taunting your defenseless enemies. They can't help it that they aren't as skilled as you." _remarked Dauth.

Aranor moved backwards not wanting to get caught off guard if Formora got up too soon. He parried a few blows and ducked a forward thrust and then rolled backwards to avoid a slash. Then Kialandi slashed at him again and he lost his balance and fell flat on the floor Kialandi pushed downwards. Aranor flipped back onto his feet kicking Kialandi in the face. Kialandi fell backwards and waited for Formora to stand up, Kialandi took the lead. Aranor went on an offensive he slashed at Kialandi's right side and at the last moment twisted it towards her shoulder. He grazed it and drew blood from her shoulder. He jabbed forward and slashed right, distracting her to buy enough time to find a gap in her defense. Aranor flipped over her exchanging blows in mid-air. He landed behind her, he felt the air around him move, unnaturally, he sensed the incoming blow and arched his back backwards to avoid a strike, and he saw a flash of brown 2 inches away from his nose. And with immense speed he took his sword and stabbed it into Formora's stomach and pulled it out. Kialandi collapsed onto the floor and Formora rushed towards her fellow forsworn, and healed the wound.

"_He must have exhausted one eldunari." _Aranor commented to Dauth.

"_Whatever you say? Now I must hurry Dec'medain requires my assistance."_

Aranor watched as the Vrael fended of Galbatorix occasional clutching his right side. The Vrael gained a nick on Galbatorix's left hip. Then he turned his attention to Brom, who was doing well against the two humans. He returned his focus to Formora and Kialandi. They both jabbed at him Aranor moved a step back and then using one hand he back flipped, in the process kicking a rider who had just dodged a stab by Brom (by stepping backwards). The man fell forward, as if he had jumped into the blades reach.

"That one counts as mine." yelled Brom over the commotion.

"No, both of us!" answered Aranor.

Brom and Aranor stood together for a few moments panting. Then Brom charged forward and engaged with another rider. Then Formora charged at him enraged by his companion's death. Aranor charged forward too sword outstretched. Just before they met Aranor whispered "Deloi Risa!" The rocky brown surface rose and created a wall Aranor jumped over it like a stepping stone and while in air kicked backwards with his left foot. His left heel drove into the back of Formora's head. They collided with a sickening crunch and, Formora's face crashed into the wall, dislocating all his face bones. Aranor was raised higher by the extra height and sailed just above Kialandi's head he thrust his sword from between his spread out legs. The blade dug deep into Kialandi's neck severing it from the rest of his body. Then he heard a dreadful cry of pain. The Vrael's head rolled down the cliff. Aranor enraged at his mentors death charged at Galbatorix, without any regard for his own safety. His whole being wished to take vengeance, as he charged every second stretched out to a minute. The world had ended. His mentor was dead. He slashed at Galbatorix's face, with all his might. There across his jaw was a thin line, with blood running down the cut; it would be a permanent scar.

He cursed at Galbatorix "This wound will never heal tyrant! Every time you do something wicked it will burn your flesh like fire. That is how you will remember me."

Then Galbatorix howled in pain and roared "Letta."

Aranor froze unable to move. Galbatorix pulled out a dagger and slashed at Aranor's face, creating a scar across his left eye. Aranor managed to heal the eye even though the scar remained. He felt a substantial drain in his energy, but laughed aloud, his laugh was like a cold wicked one, almost insane. Pain shot up through his scar. "Now you see!" howled Galbatorix "When you laugh you will feel pain. This is a reason to remember me!"

Aranor felt Brom somehow haul him onto Dauth as the darkness took him.

Flashback end ………………………………………………………….

"We will have our revenge!" Aranor roared.


	3. Chapter 2:Sorrows of the past Vanquished

This is a not so action filled chapter, read and review. Thanks to everyone for your comments

Chapter 2: Sorrows of the past vanquished

Sorrow and grief swept across the young man's mind.

"_I am alone! Ebrith'l is gone, gone forever."_ These were the thoughts that the man dwelt on. He set there upon an earthen mound; his seat was so humble yet he maintained an aura of dignity and radiated nobility. His expression was one of unfathomable anguish. The man sat on this mound immersed in his own internal turmoil. Surrounding the man was picturesque scenery. The scene was the very personification of beauty. Water lapped at the man's feet, steadily, bringing the rhythm and music to this lively scene.

_A gruesome scene filled the man's mind; an armored man on a red dragon flew towards him…_

_He heard angered voices and let out a roar…_

_Pain swept across his entire being as a red blade plunged between the ribs of the rider…_

"Nooooooo!" the man uttered a cry of pure misery.

"_Eragon, hush, do not disturb these woods. Do not mourn. Be strong Eragon. Now that (Quote from Stewart Alsop) '__A dying man needs to die, as a sleepy man needs to sleep, and there comes a time when it is wrong, as well as useless, to resist.' Do not mourn him, and forget all you're responsibilities. Carry on the torch of the riders, you are his legacy."_ A soothing voice spoke in his head.

"_I can feel it Saphira, even you in pain for his loss."_

"_Yes, I did not ask to forget him, but be strong. You cannot see me sitting in seclusion and howling like a moon addled fool." _

"_But-_

"_Eragon a poet once wrote-_

_You just stood there screaming  
Fearing no one was listening to you  
They say the empty can rattles the most  
The sound of your own voice must suit you  
_

_Hearing only what you want to hear  
And knowing only what you've heard  
You, you're smothered in tragedy  
And you're off to save the world  
Misery  
You insist that the weight of the world  
Should be on your shoulders  
Misery  
There's much more to life than what you see  
My friend of misery" _(Quote Metallica, my friend of misery)

"_Saphira was the poet an el?" _Questioned Eragon_  
"Nay, 'twas a human, James Alan, do you think I just sat there admiring my reflection, while Oromis painted those scrolls." _Saphira questioned rhetorically.

"_Little one, come now, you must fly with me." _Saphira demanded.

"_Yes, but where are you?" _inquired Eragon.

Just then he heard a branch crack and he felt a something grip his shoulders. He felt himself being pulled up and out of the glade; he looked up to see Saphira grinning wolfishly at him. Just then he felt Saphira twist and let go of him. Fear gripped him as his stomach tied into a knot. He felt as though his insides were moving as he fell freely, plummeting towards the Earth.

"Saphira!" he yelled with all his might.

Just then he saw a flash of blue dart past him and with inhuman reflexes he caught hold of one of her neck spikes.

"_That was fun, let's do it again" Saphira said teasingly._

"_Are you insane?" Eragon retorted._

"_You'll pay for that… Hmm… let me see, what the worst location possible to drop you is." _

Saphira took a steep dive, just as Eragon adjusted himself onto her back. Eragon held on for dear life while Saphira gained speed rapidly. Eragon's skin was pulled backwards, due to the extreme speed. Saphira jerked without Eragon's anticipation, he lost his grip and plunged into a lake below.

He let out a scream of "AAAAAH!", as he fell head first into the water. As he reached the water it broke his fall and his fall seemed to slow down gradually as he floated towards the bottom of the lake, and with a kick of his legs he accelerated skywards, as he broke through the surface. Sunlight stung his eyes as he did so. The water was freezing; Eragon was completely soaked in the bitter cold water. As he swam towards the shore, he heard loud rich peals of musical laughter.

"Barzul." He cursed.

"_Saphira what have you done?" _scolded Eragon.

His only reply was, the sound of rocks scraping against each other, Saphira's laughter._  
_Arya stood on the shore watching as Eragon swam, towards dry land.

"Land Ahoy!" shouted Arya, mockingly, as Eragon reached the shore and pulled himself onto the shore.

"_I am bound to get sick if I continue to wear these soaked clothes…" _Then it dawned upon him

"_Saphira you, evil bird-brained, twisted dragon." _Eragon cursed at her, the pointed tips of his ears turned red.

"_I love you too, little one", Answered Saphira._

Eragon shivered, he was cold and chilled. Arya was still laughing at his unfortunate dip in the river. Eragon was unable to take the cold anymore pulled off his shirt. Water clung to his shirt and hair in the form of droplets. Arya abruptly stopped laughing and eyed Eragon curiously. Eragon's brown hair was in complete disarray. He had acquired a slight tan; he was now a well built man/elf with rippling muscles.

"_Ooh! She likes you're new form,"_ Teased Saphira.

Eragon ignored her, and looked at Arya, "I am sorry for this inconvenience, but I did not wish to die of cold, and it was all Saphira's idea anyways. I am the victim." Eragon explained himself.

"Very well, and I must inform you that we are to leave for the funeral, tomorrow, at night fall." Informed Arya, she looked away trying to maintain a blank, face, the tips of her ears turning red. Eragon sensed another feeling as well as embarrassment in her, face. However he was unable to guess what it was.

"It seems you have gotten over the loss, of Oromis." She commented, betraying some contempt.

Eragon's expression changed to one of irritation, "Do not insult us Arya-Svit-Kona, we mourned the two for long, but if we remained, so in grief, what would we accomplish. Saphira and I are no strangers to loss; in fact death is a part of us. I have lost, my uncle Garrow, Brom, the father I never knew, Oromis as well, my mother left me when I was very young, Saphira did not know hers, nor did she know her father. It would be very easy to sit, holding my head in my hands, and crying, in the meantime somebody else will kill, Galbatorix, right? No I chose the harder path. Do not think I don't care about my loved ones."

"I apologize, for being, so haughty, I underestimated, you, Eragon Elda, for you are wise."

"He who dares to be a fool, that is the first step to wisdom (Quote, I do not remember who, I am sorry)" retorted Eragon.

Then a deafening roar was heard, Saphira swooped down gracefully, placing herself between, Eragon and Arya. She raised an ivory talon and placed it on Arya's shoulder. She moved her face closer to Arya's. She opened her mouth revealing razor sharp teeth, and let out a threatening growl.

"_Do not __underestimate him again, for you may be older than us, but that does not mean we both are fools."_

Arya flinched, and then made eye contact with Saphira.

"I apologize, bright scales. It shall not happen again," Answered Arya.

Saphira satisfied walked back to Eragon's side.

"Saphira, did you at least bring me dry clothes."

"_Eragon do I look like a laundry basket. Enough we will camp here; you can sleep under my wing, little one."_

Saphira opened her mouth, and a blue jet of fire was released, Eragon, made himself comfortable under Saphira's wing, bidding Arya farewell. Saphira looked at the night sky as the stars twinkled.

"_Good night, little one."_

"_Good night, mighty dragon," _Replied Eragon.

Saphira curled herself into a ball, placing a wing over Eragon, protectively.


End file.
